


Taste of Candy

by MissMonsters2



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, soft angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22916437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMonsters2/pseuds/MissMonsters2
Summary: [From Tumblr]Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFCPrompt: Kiss me again, like you mean it.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 91
Collections: Wanda Maximoff Reader-Inserts





	Taste of Candy

It starts with an umbrella and sour cola candies.

If there’s one thing that Wanda can say with certainty is that she hates the small town she lives in. She hates her conservative parents, who are both lawyers. She hates that they only expect her to win, and if she isn’t winning, then she isn’t anything.

So, she was the student council president, the cheer captain, and they’re naming her prom queen right now in her senior year.

She’s got the hottest and most popular guy as her boyfriend and prom king, and even though he’s a kind of an annoying know-it-all, he likes her.

It’s supposed to be the best night of her life. This was supposed to be everything she wanted. Her parents were proud of Wanda because, after this, she’s supposed to get married to Vision and be a housewife like her mom.

That’s supposed to be her happily ever after.

So, why is it that while prom is ending, she’s sitting outside on the bleachers in the rain crying?

And when she feels the rain stop pelting her on the head, she looks up. It’s you.

She’s never talked to you during all the entire years of high school because you’re not popular.

You’re not _unpopular_ , either, but she can’t be friends with people who aren’t popular. People say you’re kind of weird as you don’t conform to any social norms or expectations, but you’re nice and smart, always willing to let people copy your homework, so they don’t bully you either. 

And you’re always eating sour cola candies.

You’re standing with her on the bleachers, coincidentally close enough that she’s under your umbrella. You’re not even looking at her as you offer her a bag of those sour fucking cola candies. 

Wanda can’t help but snort because it’s prom, and you’re not even wearing a prom dress. Just there in your ripped jeans, shirt, and a leather jacket.

“Get lost,” Wanda sneers in her mean popular girl voice because she doesn’t need you here while she’s fucking having a breakdown. 

But all she gets is a yawn as you sit down next to her, making sure she’s under your umbrella as you shove the bag of candy more obnoxiously towards her. 

Unsure what else to really do, Wanda reaches in the bag and pulls out a piece of candy, putting it in her mouth. 

It’s way too sweet, Wanda thinks. The first bite makes her jaw tingle as saliva rushes to her mouth due to the sourness.

But she likes the sweet aftertaste when all the sourness is gone. 

And for the moment, she’s not crying. 

The two of you sit in silence, watching the empty field as it continues to rain. 

“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m out here and crying?” Wanda asks, not looking at you still. After all, she’s the most popular girl in high school, wouldn’t this be the most amazing news to spread.

“No,” you quietly reply, popping another candy in your mouth. Wanda thinks your voice is soft, not at all how she thought you’d sound (which is gruff for how you look). 

“Why? Aren’t you curious about why the student council president, cheer captain, and prom queen is out here crying on what’s supposed to be the best night of her life?”

You hum, “Don’t care.”

Wanda’s jaw drops a little. 

“Well–what– _why_ are you here then?” Wanda demands as she half-sputters in disbelief. 

Wanda watches as you lull your head side-to-side and can’t help but agree with people you’re weird. 

“Well, you were crying, and you were getting wet. I have an umbrella, and I have candy. You’re under my umbrella, so you’re not getting wet anymore. You ate a piece of candy, and you stopped crying. So, your reason doesn’t really matter anymore,” you reason with her, but that doesn’t really explain to Wanda why, but she suspects that within your answer, you really meant to say there was no particular reason. You saw she was crying and getting soaked, and you had the means to stop it. So, you did.

“But,” you continue, dragging Wanda out of her thoughts, “I have other things to do that I can’t put off anymore, so…”

Wanda sighs, not expecting the slight disappointment that you had to go. She’s not even sure she understands this entire interaction. 

But suddenly, you’re shoving your umbrella in her hand, dumping the candy in her lap, before you take off your leather jacket and putting it around her shoulders. You get out into the rain, letting yourself get soaked. 

And for a moment, Wanda has a passing thought that you’re beautiful.

“That’s my favorite candy and last bag, so stop crying,” you tell her, but then pause.

“Pretty girls shouldn’t cry in the rain,” you finally say as if to soften your command of her to stop her tears.

And then you’re gone.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Prom ends without any further incidents, and after drying herself off in the washroom, she goes back to her friends who didn’t even notice she was missing, and her boyfriend, who only had a mild concern about the leather jacket and candy she brought back.

Wanda can’t explain why she didn’t share one piece of candy with anyone who asked.

And then school starts again, and she sees you in the halls, but you don’t even look at her.

It’s like you don’t even remember being out in the bleachers with her while she cried.

And somehow, with everything else in her life, it makes her feel worse. Graduation day comes, and Wanda can’t help but feel like the end of her life is coming closer.

She’s valedictorian, and she’s giving her speech, looking in the crowd only to realize you didn’t even fucking show up to graduation. 

Wanda has her diploma in hand, her parents take two photos with her before they flitter off to network with other people. Her boyfriend is fooling around with his friends as they take pictures and throw their football around for one last time.

And Wanda…Wanda just feels like the world is closing up on her as she stands there frozen.

But then a bag of sour cola candies comes into her view. Stunned, she looks past the bag to see you again. 

Perhaps because Wanda stands there too long without doing anything, you end up taking her empty hand out, dumping a couple candies into it. Without saying anything else, you turn to leave.

“Wait–” Wanda softly calls out, and you turn back with a brow raised.

“I’m not giving you the whole bag this time,” you frown slightly.

Wanda ignores the comment, even the little sting that you won’t give her the entire bag like last time, but maybe there are rules to getting an entire candy bag from you.

“Why are you here? You didn’t show up to walk the stage,” Wanda asks instead. She’s not even sure what she wanted to ask in the first place when said asked you to wait.

“I’m not interested in walking the stage, but I want my diploma,” you say, waving the piece of paper slightly around to show Wanda in your other hand.

“ _Why?_ ” Wanda emphasizes because everyone else doesn’t care about a stupid flimsy piece of paper that said they’ve graduated from high school. They just want to walk the stage in front of their peers. 

You tilt your head, holding it up better for Wanda to see.

“The font is hilariously terrible. I wanted a copy to remember.”

The reason is so stupid, Wanda thinks, but she can’t help the chortle that comes out because it’s true, the font is _awful_.

Wanda finds you staring at her and clears her throat from the laughter. 

“So?” Wanda asks, “Now what for you?” 

You lick your lips, an action that Wanda thinks she was entirely too fixated on, and then nod your head outside the arena. It’s a clear sign for Wanda to follow you.

At first, she hesitates because she really shouldn’t leave the arena when her parents are bound to come back soon. But then you shake your bag of candies like you’re fucking trying to lure her out with you and Wanda makes the split decision to go.

She goes outside and sees your car out in the front. A well-kept convertible Mercedes Benz that you didn’t have before. 

“Nice car, how’d you get it?” Wanda asks, inspecting the rest of the car and finds a suitcase in the back.

“I won it in a street race,” you say so offhandedly even though Wanda whips her head towards you. You don’t offer any other explanation, though.

“What–when did you even–” Wanda doesn’t even know what to ask. Should she ask why you were street racing? Where? How did you even know?

“Prom,” is all you offer, and Wanda is in disbelief you left her because you were going to go _street race_.

“Okay,” Wanda breathes, “So, where are you going?” 

She saw the suitcase. 

So, you’re getting out of this shitty small town, and Wanda can’t help the stab of envy that comes.

Maybe it’s a university far away that you’re going to. University that Wanda didn’t even get a chance to apply to.

Because she has to go back.

Wanda’s going to get married and then follow the footsteps of her mother.

“Anywhere,” you say, looking at Wanda seriously. 

“You don’t have a plan?” Wanda can’t help the shallow laughter. 

“Sometimes having no plan is the plan,” you say.

“That’s stupid,” Wanda says hollowly.

“It’s better than following a plan you don’t want,” You comment, and Wanda whips her head to look at you.

“Excuse me?” The mean popular girl tone comes out.

“What now for _you?_ ” You ask, ignoring Wanda. 

Wanda doesn’t answer because everyone in this stupid small town knows what her plan is. 

And she wants to scream. 

“Come with me.”

The words hit Wanda like a freight train, and she’s staring at you as if you sprouted three heads.

“What–no, why would I–”

“You know, for the 4 years I’ve known you, all you’ve ever shown was that you were the top of the hierarchy gunning for prom queen like it was the only thing that existed in the world. And then the night you were crowned, you were crying on the bleachers. Now you’re here, graduating, and you look like you’re going to vomit.”

Wanda flares because she’s well aware of that night. Like something ugly spilled over and now won’t stop spilling.

“What would you know–” 

“It’s okay to want more than what’s planned for you.”

The words make Wanda breathless. 

Because maybe that’s the deep-rooted secret Wanda has been carrying underneath the perfect girl her parents groomed her to be.

But…

“I can’t,” Wanda’s voice cracks. 

Because this is all she’s ever known is everything that’s in front of her. How could she turn back, abandoned everything she’s done so far to get here? Her parents would never speak to her again. 

And so, Wanda turns around and goes back into the stadium, leaving behind a possibility of what could’ve been.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

That night, Wanda’s family hosts a dinner with Vision and his parents. Everyone’s laughing and enjoying themselves. Her brother is joking around with Vision, and their moms are already talking about wedding plans.

It’s just so overwhelming. 

They’re talking about coral flowers, white tablecloths, and being in a church.

They talk about Vision going to Harvard and taking over his father’s company. They talk about how Wanda’s going to have the cutest children, and it’s making her stomach churn.

She feigns sickness and excuses herself for the rest of the night to go to her room. 

It’s probably hours that pass, and the house is dead silent, signaling everyone has gone to bed.

She lays in the dark, facing the ceiling with her hands folded gently together over her stomach. 

And then she hears something hit her window gently.

_Tap tap_

Wanda gets up, walking over to the window and looks out confused. She sees you standing there, convertible parked out in the front, and throw pebbles at her window.

She opens it and hisses, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Wanda already said no to you. Why would you come again?

“I came to get my leather jacket,” you say, blinking. 

And it occurs to Wanda she never gave back your jacket from the night in the rain. 

She huffs, stalking back in to grab the clothing before appearing again at the window and throwing it down to you.

You catch it with ease and look back up at her.

“Wanda,” you call softly, garnering her attention, “come with me.”

She frowns.

But instead of no, she asks, “Why?”

And it’s quiet, and Wanda thinks it was dumb to ask because there’s no reason she needs to go and leave the life she has now.

“Wanda, you’re always going to be more than this small town. You don’t belong here.”

And Wanda left breathless again by you. It’s like the words ring in her ear and make it to her heart because maybe that’s what she wanted someone to confirm all along.

Of course, she wants more, but is she enough for more?

And then you pull out a bag of candy from your jacket pocket and offer it to her. 

And suddenly, Wanda turns back into her room, grabbing her small suitcase and shoving in all her clothes and belongings she’ll need. She pulls all the cash she has and her passport and then sneaks out the front door. 

It’s insane, she thinks as you take her suitcase and throw it in the back. 

It’s doesn’t make any sense at all as she gets into the car with you, someone she’s never really even spoken to, and watches her house get smaller in the side mirror. 

It’s a little scary, and she’s worried that her family will absolutely lose their shit.

But she doesn’t know how to explain the absolute fucking euphoria that’s spreading through her when she sees the sign they’re leaving their small town.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Months pass. 

Her parents did immediately freak out when she was gone. All she had sent was a simple text to Pietro that was she doesn’t want to get married to Vision and become a housewife. She wants more. 

And her parents won’t even talk to her and don’t want her to come home anymore, and while it had gutted her and took her months to get over, she was still happier out here.

Wanda feels the wind in her hair, a feeling she thinks she can’t live without now and looks over to you subtly. 

You’ve got your sunglasses on and playing the same song the two of you have been listening to for weeks now, and she thinks back to everything.

You’ve taken her to so many places now. 

She’s been to Washington to California, Arizona to Texas, Florida to New York, and now they’re on their way to the airport to go live in Hawaii for a little while. 

When going state to state, the two of you always picked up jobs here and there, saving up cash for your next trip, and Wanda’s just never felt so free.

She’s never laughed like she has now, sang like does in the morning, joke around with anyone like she does with you. 

Wanda’s not sure what any of it means. 

But sometimes, she’ll put her hand on the shift stick and likes when you place your hand over hers.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

They’ve been in Hawaii for 2 weeks now, and Wanda thinks she likes Hawaii the best out of all the places they’ve traveled to.

It’s a wonderful vacation spot, and she loves living on the beach every day. 

The two of you are working at a hotel, and Wanda managed to get off earlier than you. Tonight, they’re hosting a luau and Wanda’s sitting on the beach again with a paper and pen.

She’s been working on her admission letter to Princeton with your encouragement. 

“Hey,” Wanda hears and looks up to see you in one of those ugly Hawaiian shirts that you claim will be all the rage in a few years.

You take a seat right next to Wanda, your shoulder bumping gently as you sit down, and hand her a drink in a pineapple cup.

Wanda hums happily, seeing the tiny umbrella and takes a sip from the straw. 

“How’s your admission letter going?” You ask with your sour cola candy bag. 

Wanda doesn’t understand how you can eat them so often. She really stopped having them after that night you whisked her away in your car. Wanda doesn’t like the sour part even if she likes the sweet aftertaste.

“Going,” Wanda sighs. There’s so much she can write about, but it just seems like word vomit on paper at this point.

“You’re doing wonderfully, it’ll be amazing,” you reassure her with an ease that makes Wanda’s heart flutter. She doesn’t understand how you always seem to say the words she wants to hear. 

Wanda sets the paper down, holding it down with a pile of sand on top as she resigns to just enjoy the rest of the night with you. 

The breeze feels good against her skin, and she loves hearing the sounds of the waves against the shore. 

She’s sipping her drink and leaning her head on your shoulder as she listens to the music of the luau in the background. 

Suddenly, she feels you fiddling something in her hair. Her hand comes up to feel a flower resting against her ear. She pulls out her phone to see a red and yellow hibiscus in her hair. You’re looking to the side as you chew on your candies, and Wanda smiles.

“Where’d you get it?” Wanda asks, resuming lying on your shoulder.

“I saw it in Mr. Kahale’s backyard. I thought it would look pretty on you, so I asked him for one,” You explain as you look back at her.

“And he gave you one?” Wanda asked in a surprised tone. Mr. Kahale was known for being stingy with his flowers.

“No, so then I took it when he wasn’t looking,” you grin as Wanda slaps your arm with a laugh.

“He’s going to notice, you know,” Wanda tells you, and you shrug.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive me like the last 7 times.”

And suddenly, Wanda feels a wet drop on her cheek. It starts to drizzle, not enough to cancel the luau, but she can see people in the distance, making their way back to find shelter.

She hasn’t been in the rain since the night on the bleachers. Wanda straightens herself and looks up at the rain. 

“This sure brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Wanda laughs a little, and she sees you looking up as well, the finished bag of candy forgotten. 

“You must’ve thought I was crazy crying out in the bleachers,” Wanda comments offhandedly.

“Not at all,” You say, looking over to Wanda, getting her to look at you too.

Wanda snorts. “Alright, what _really_ made you come over to a girl crying in the rain.”

Even after all this time, Wanda still can’t believe you came over for the sake of coming over.

You sit up, brushing your hands to get the wet sand off.

“Same reason. Pretty girls shouldn’t cry in the rain,” you smile, and Wanda laughs again.

“Alright, what _do_ pretty girls do in the rain?”

You lick your lips, and Wanda suddenly has that feeling she’s been often getting when she’s with you. 

_“They get kissed,”_ you lean over and press your lips softly to Wanda. 

All Wanda can taste is the sour cola candies, but she’s getting the best part of it, the sweet aftertaste. It’s soft and quick. But it’s still better than any kiss she’s ever gotten from the boys she’s dated.

It makes her skin hum, and her stomach explodes with butterflies. It makes her sigh when you part from her.

Her head is swirling, and she opens her eyes to see yours staring back at her so seriously.

It’s too quick, Wanda decides. 

**“Kiss me again,”** she husks, **“like you mean it.”**

And when your lips descend on hers again, Wanda decides that she likes the candy as long as she can taste it like this.

And as long as Wanda gets her way, she’ll be the only pretty girl you’ll ever kiss again.


End file.
